


Smoke's Students

by KaT_John_Adams



Category: Elsewhere University (Webcomic)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:40:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27030583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaT_John_Adams/pseuds/KaT_John_Adams
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

Bounty spent her first week at Elsewhere, her first Free week, after They came for her, in a mild stupor. Smoke and the small collective of people under her protection kept her fed, got her clothing, and made sure she had plenty to do.

In her second week they’d somehow managed to get her a student ID card - some wondrous little Token that gave her unfettered access to most of the student facilities. How they’d managed the forgery she never asked - a boy with a shy smile she’d never seen but nonetheless wore one of Smoke’s charms as a necklace had given it to her and scurried away before she could ask his name or refuse.

She learned later his name was Bugs, and he only left his dorm for class due to personal needs. Smoke had found out about him the previous year and arranged friends to bring him food and take his trash for him. Apparently he was “not bad with computer tricks.”

So as she settled into life in Elsewhere she began to wonder what she would do. This was a place between places, even for the human students. Staying was never an option but it had truly felt like one in those first days. But she knew that there were Rules which were not written, but _felt_. So she wondered at how long she could stay.

In her third week, she met Haven. The girl with skin almost as dark as her curly black hair had found her on a particularly frustrating day and brought her to “Haven’s Haven” a tongue in cheek nickname for the radiant and peaceful girl’s dorm room. She’d taught Bounty about human meditation and the many ways it was practiced. Given her sweet smelling lotions (“For your skin, dear. The lavendar will sooth if nothing else. I don’t know if that perfect skin of yours needs help, but your nerves definitely do”). Showed her how to take her thoughts and turn the swirling chaos into a calm whorl.

Bounty also met Twice, a boy (later, he explained to her that he was trans which for all she could tell meant he was a boy but some people refused to accept that because of “biology” which she considered a bit dense; they happily called her a girl and she had felt that perfectly fine but she was anything but “biologically” any gender/sex or even _human_ ). He was lighthearted and full of smiles and wore everything in vibrant, surprising colors. Bounty felt most at ease with Twice, moreso than even the ever soothing Haven.

In her fourth week, a youthful person, all joy and serenity incarnate, approached her and placed a crown of flowers on her head. She’d been, at first, fearful that the one before her was Fey but quickly realized he was more simply one of those people at Elsewhere that just _fit_ in a strange way. But all day as she wore the crown, almost afraid to touch it, people smiled at her almost knowingly. She learned that everyone loved the flower boy, and even They considered him Unharmed. That night, she brought the circlet to Smoke’s room who placed it on a shelf and said it would stay until Bounty came back for it.

She also began to encounter other students who, now recognizing her face, would come up and ask for advice or help. Often she didn’t have easy answers for human problems but directed them to those she knew who did, people they called Smoke’s Students. In questions of magic and Other Things, she gave cautious advice, and found herself sought often for it once word spread she knew what she was about.

And the days passed, unchanging. And it felt almost as if maybe fate was ignoring her.

And then.

“Bounty?”

“Hmm?” She turned to the voice. It was Twice and he wore a weather inappropriate sundress, seemingly unaware of the temperature being just above freezing. But it was the concerned frown he wore which stood out more, as a relaxed smile was the usual for the gentle face.

“Twice, what’s wrong?”

His hands gently clutched at the folds of the skirt, which she’d learned was a nervous habit for him. “It’s your eyes. Aren’t they usually brown?”

Bounty glanced around and leaned conspiratorially close, suddenly worried. “What color are they?”

Twice stared into her face intently, as if not trusting his _own_ eyes. “Bright emerald. Not green. Like, they shine - they shine like jewels.”

“… Oh.”

A few breaths.

Realization.

Fear.

Panic.

_no_

She reached into herself and sought a sense of calm. She let her breath slow and fought for control. She needed to do one thing and do so without worrying others.

Or attracting Others.

_Get to Smoke._

Twice walked with her, escorting her to Smoke’s dorm, punching in the door code to the old cipher lock. They ducked into the room, and Twice shot off a text message. Then another. And a third.

Smoke arrived ten minutes later, having simply stood and left her lecture hall without a word, which her professors had become begrudgingly accepting of. She’d called Rote while walking and they arrived together. Haven arrived shortly after (she politely excused herself, citing a student emotional emergency and arranged to get the notes from a friend). Jules flowed down from her floor, as usual over-dressed in gauzy fabric.

Smoke had immediately sat Bounty on her bed, placed her desk chair in front of the scared girl, and sat backwards on it, staring at Bounty like a wolf eyeing a trespasser. Haven saw this and pulled Smoke away (“Stop that, she’s already upset enough without you stirring your cauldron–no, I’m not hearing it, give her _space_.”) and Smoke surprisingly assented, contenting herself with sulking into one of her older books and muttering about “overly romantic Victorian texts”.

Jules, of course, immediately drifted onto the bed beside Bounty and began holding her hands and asking her if it hurt and why, was that her natural eye color? And how did this glamour work? She was always beautiful and this was just as lovely if a bit startling and then Haven pulled _her_ away, sitting her on the other chair in the room (“What is wrong with you _witches_? Give the girl some space! She isn’t a research project, she’s our _friend_ ”).

At that, Smoke smacked the sesquicentennial book closed and hissed. “Of course! These dusty old English bags aren’t going to help, her friends are.” The witch turned and appraised Bounty differently. “ _We_ are.”

Haven smirked and pulled her hair back into a massive bun, twisting a scrunchie into it. Bounty had learned that Haven meant to be _less subtle_ in her actions when she did this and that could be as comforting as it could be terrifying, depending on what side you were on. “That’s better. Put the Harry Potter away and let’s willpower this.”

Smoke glared at Haven and their usual strange blend of camaraderie and antagonism swirled in the room, but the witch decided to let her friend have this one with a sly smile. “Willpower is right. I think being our friend was enough to anchor Bounty to Elsewhere for a while, but it was still temporary. this isn’t home, and home _calls_.”

Bounty’s face fell. So, Smoke had known she’d have to return. She felt sad, knowing the little charm that had grown fond of her and she it would have to be left behind - such a thing could never last where she would go and it would not be a pleasant passing for the little darling. And she would have to leave behind all her friends, Smoke’s Students – and Twice. That thought hurt. And she was a little upset Smoke hadn’t told her all the witch had figured out through whatever means were available to her skills.

But Smoke was already sending a text. And another. And another. After she was done, she grinned at Bounty with a smile that shouted smug satisfaction. “Bounty, lovely, you aren’t going to leave us. Not until you’re ready. If ever. I have an insane idea. But you have to play along.” The girl with currently gemstone eyes arched an eyebrow. This was not the reaction she expected – but what could one expect of a witch as surprising as this? Smoke sat backward on the chair again, leaning towards her new friend. “What subjects would you like to enroll in?”


	2. Chapter 2

Bounty sat, textbook on the desk in front of her, as Professor Purcell lectured on the development of perspective in medieval art. Bounty was fascinated by the strange development in human art taking advantage of how their limited perception of the world allowed them to create images that became less symbolic and more literal illusions. Imagine, being so inherently limited in how you see the world that things like “distance” were more relevant than measurements like closeness of Being.

And this was so integral to them that a religious building had a painting done with this perspective added and people believed a new addition to the church had magically appeared! Bounty, rather than being dismissive, was amazed. Humans had an inventiveness she had not truly seen amongst the Courts. Apparently no little thing like a limit of moving through three dimensions would stop them. And, moreso, she found herself enjoying the _feelings_ caused by some of the things her professors showed her.

Professor Purcell, for her part, pretended not to notice a new student that had _not_ been part of the Arts Department student list the previous week. She pretended _not_ to see through the rather well done glamour hiding her… fascinating eyes. Smoke’s work, no doubt, given the charm she wore. The Professor might have been happy to know Jules had helped Smoke with this bit of work, given Jules’ usual seeming inability to complete tasks most days. But mostly she tried not to find herself distracted by said eyes lest she make the poor girl uncomfortable.

Other professors adored Bounty. She was attentive and her attendance was perfect – she arrived five minutes before each class and listened intently, asking good questions (even if some seemed like things the girl should know – she was obviously smart enough to make it through the entrance exams; clearly there were some odd gaps in her arts studies previously), and turning in her work with excellent attention to the guidelines. If they thought it odd to have a transfer mid-semester, well, this was Elsewhere and honestly it was less disruptive than half the things students tried to keep as _pets_ , so few had any serious concerns.

The students accepted Bounty as a transfer, despite some of them having seen her about campus. Noticing Smoke’s charm tended to sideline the need to question her sudden inclusion most students had. And for her part, Bounty was making friends and not just with Smoke’s Students, but with her classmates as well. There was a strong culture of gift freely given or things paid clearly and with no hanging responsibility, and Bounty’s pleasant smile made her fast, if awkward friends. It was difficult explaining why she couldn’t go with people off campus. And why she couldn’t buy things in the campus stores.

Hearing this, Bugs had found her and handed the very confused girl a “reloadable gift card” (Haven would explain later; Jules, as Haven said firmly, would _not_ ) with a quiet, “Do not ask, do not tell; you can buy things in the campus bookstore and the local shops. Do not order anything online.” (“On what line?” “… You will be fine.”)

Twice had helped her pick classes and Bugs had put her in them. She was now a fully registered student and when a dorm opened up that week as someone in Saoirse Hall transferred out, she suddenly had a place to live. And clothes that Jules helped her pick. And that Haven argued with Jules about before helping Bounty pick more.

And she suddenly had a small laptop. Again, courtesy of Bugs and the IT Department’s “old things they were probably throwing away, anyway.” And Rote taught her the basics she would need to do classwork - document types and logging into the Whiteboard campus BBS. She discovered the use of a refrigerator - something so common even Smoke’s Students, having never ‘adopted’ someone like her before, had neglected to explain on her room tour. Now she cherished the little humming cube, keeping newly discovered sweets and delicacies in it.

Haven taught her to mind her budget that Bugs afforded her (“No, seriously, do not ask. And do not buy anything across state lines”). She had difficulty with values in terms of money, not desire, and over-tipped by double when they went out the first time. But after understanding the concept she refused to accept she was not correct in her estimation of how much to leave.

Jules taught her to, every now and then, ignore what Haven said (“Life is messy for humans. Even neat, perfect ones like her. Messy can be fun. Between you and me, Haven and I are a decent balance of the two”). Bounty found that both of them were remarkable counterpoints to each other. Each of Smoke’s Students seemed to complement one another that way - divided in values save for the core love of helping one another and helping each other fill gaps in their little group dynamic.

She spent the most time with Twice, though, learning to laugh out loud as he became so engrossed in his video games and YouTube (one word, oddly capitalized). She learned that she enjoyed holding hands with him and trying new clothes.

And he introduced her to his gaming group though he told her not to get involved in their game of Changeling. She expressed concern over the name but he explained that the StoryTeller (again, one word, oddly capitalized) was using it to teach students how to avoid Their traps and trades. A risky proposition, but apparently he had some rather nasty experiences and was devoted to pressing these lessons on his players with gusto. “Lostlings” didn’t get taken, the games club said. Most of them joined the game just because of that.

She found in that silly and raucous group a love of creativity beyond what her professors had taught and if anything it had improved her enjoyment of the classes. Which was why she was confused when Professor Purcell asked her to meet during office hours.

“Miss Bounty, please, sit.” Bounty did so, feeling suddenly smaller again and fearful. But Purcell’s normally strict face softened and she smiled at the girl sitting across from her. “Now, normally, when someone is transferred into my department - my school - I tend to be aware of it ahead of time and usually have approved them for transfer _before_ that student has spent over a month on Campus. I’m told it was just a ’ _bug_ ’ in the servers.”

Bounty paled and she began to apologize but the Professor held up a hand. “It’s alright. I have become… accustomed to interesting things happening around Smoke’s Students like yourself.” The girl reflected on this and realized she had become one of them.

“That said, we need to discuss your choice in eye makeup.”

Bounty felt her blood cool, her muscles relax into a loose readiness to fight, _kill_. This woman _knew_. And Bounty wasn’t sure how to protect herself now. The skills she had used… _before…_ were no longer appropriate. And she _liked_ the professor. She did not want to hurt her.

“Specifically, have you noticed it’s gone?” The professor eyed her as Bounty registered shock, her hands unwittingly reaching up to check but it was true. Her eyes were no longer gemstones, but true, human eyes - even to her own senses.

Professor Purcell sighed, standing slowly. “I am not sure, though I’ve a very good guess, where you came from and what you _were_. _But_ you need to speak to Miss Smoke. She’s keeping something from you and you ought to know who you are.”

Bounty began to feel her eyes - her seemingly very human eyes - start to well with tears. “Y- yes ma'am.”

Professor Purcell nodded and smiled kindly. “That’s all Miss Bounty. No, there’s something else.” Bounty froze, half standing, but slowly finished straightening up. Smoke had taught her that when you face something dangerous, do so with a firm spine if at all possible. “Please know Miss Smoke isn’t trying to harm you. And that I happily expect to see you back in class tomorrow.” Still smiling, she extended her hand and Bounty took it. The professor’s grip was firm and warm and she squeezed Bounty’s hand gently.

“Welcome to Elsewhere University, Miss Bounty.”


	3. Chapter 3

“I’m _what_?!”

Smoke savored her Cheshire grin and patted Bounty’s arm. “Human. More or less. It is all belief. It is all willpower and ideas making themselves whole because we spoke them into existence.”

Bounty sat on the bed by Smoke’s desk and stared at the floor. She’d tried sleeping, and found she liked it and even felt almost like she needed it. She ate. She went to class. She made friends. She’d been doing all the simple, messy, careful, exciting things a person does. And she realized it felt true.

“But- I’m not! I’m-” Smoke threw a hand up, quickly silencing Bounty.

“You never say it. You never tell. It lives or dies based on beliefs. Whatever I suspect, it is just that – a Suspicion. The more you do as a human, the more you are human. Magic to us isn’t like it is for you. For us, often, Magic is less an act of will power but a will to act. If we do something, act as something, live in a way, then that action begins to become the truth. Magic bends with us, not under us as it does for Others.”

The girl, such as she now was, gaped for a moment. “So, that’s why. The classes. The dorm room. The friends. You’ve been… giving me human things to do and think like because your plan was to make me… human? Is that really possible?”

Smoke frowned. “Well, you had wanted it and said as much. Telling you we were doing it might have kept you from believing it which you clearly as well do now. As for possible? Well, I don’t know.” She considered the situation a moment before leaning over to her desk, suddenly flinging something at Bounty who caught it as if she’d expected it and then stared at the unfamiliar charm with confusion. She could feel it was a powerful little thing – more carefully tatted and with some parts wound in thin wire. Iron beads hung from it. This was a charm to stop even one of Them as was incredibly powerful dead in their tracks. And…

“Wait, how am I holding this?”

Smoke laughed. “I knew it would work! Or would not. Whatever. The point is that you might feel a bit of the power in that little one there – I bet you can sense how strong it is – but when you first arrived on my door, that charm would have knocked you straight on your ass.”

Bounty sat in silence a moment, and, for the third time in Smoke’s dorm room, she began crying. Smoke dropped to her knees in front of Bounty, grabbing her arms. “Bounty, what is wrong? I am sorry; I thought this is what you wanted?”

The now-human girl nodded through her tears and suddenly lurched forward, wrapping her arms around Smoke’s neck, sobbing uncontrollably. _Human_? Humans weren’t weapons. They could _choose_ their lives. They could _leave_ this place. They could have whole adventurous lives of their _own_ making. They wouldn’t be just tools to hurt others but would be happy and sad and foolish and strong and cry and dance and laugh.

And she could do that now.

She stayed like that for a few minutes, a stress she’d barely acknowledged suddenly breaking like a dam. When her sobbing slowed, Smoke sat her down and told her that it was her place to tell others that it’d worked; if she chose to. Most didn’t know the exact purpose Smoke was up to, but they trusted the witch’s intuition.

Jules, of course, squealed. Of _course_ it worked! After all, Smoke was _such_ a powerful witch no matter what she said and of _course_ Bounty was just so very likable and, after all, Jules had helped a _little_ – no great witch yet of course but she’d contributed some (she actually had, more than she knew, but she enjoyed her occasional humble brag). She’d been practically bouncing and Bounty grimaced in good humor, never able to match the girl’s energy but loving it all the same.

Haven had smiled and said “Good for you. Is there anything I can do for you?” Bounty asked to come see her soon, just to sit and enjoy a quiet moment, and Haven eagerly agreed. “Tell me if you need something I can help with, even if it’s just an ear that won’t judge.”

She sent a text message to Bugs. She perhaps sent too much, gushing a little, thanking him for all the work he’d done. She hadn’t expected any response at all (he wasn’t rude, it just wasn’t his way), but her phone buzzed immediately after with his reply, “Knew you would be fine. Come see me soon. You need real papers.” She smiled at that. He’d explain later. She might ask him if Rote could come as Bugs tended to explain _what_ , Rote explained _why_.

Over the afternoon, she told all of Smoke’s Students. They all showered her with encouragement and love and offers of help in the future.

And last, Bounty told Twice. She knocked on his dorm door and smiled at his beaming face. Told him that she was human. Told him that she was free of Them. Told him she could stay. The two spent the evening together, cuddled up on Twice’s bed surrounded by pillows, laughing and talking the night away. And Bounty fell asleep on his chest and dreamed.

And for the first time her dreams were of her future.


End file.
